How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Wank
by lorelei173
Summary: The world of fanfic writing in Potterverse can be deadly. What happens when a fic is posted that is so horrific that it threatens the very existence of the fandom? Follow a group of writers as they navigate these dangerous waters trying to save the fandom
1. Chapter 1

** Disclaimer: Everything from Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling; the plot is based on the Stanley Kubrick film, "Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb" (1964); all other characters are products of my deranged mind, that is to say my own creations.**

** Dr. GrapeNut: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Wank**

"_For years now, ominous rumours have been privately circulating among big name fans on both sides of the Atlantic that somewhere an unknown fan was hard at work on what was darkly hinted to be the Ultimate Fanfic, a Doomsday fic if you will. Intelligence sources traced pennames associated with horrific fics, especially those featuring dubious consent in one form or another, to the perpetually fog-shrouded grammar wasteland stretching from sea to shining sea where purple mountain majesties above the fruited plains failed to deliver on the promise of a decent fic worth reading. Who was writing it or why it was being written in the first place, no one could say, although everyone had an opinion."_

Hedwig's theme plays softly in the background as we see Quidditch players with large sturdy broomsticks proudly jutting out and soaring into the heavens under a dense cloud cover. In the distance, the castle shone like a beacon calling lost seamen to shore. "It looks like rain again. Why does it always rain when Quidditch is played?"

"It doesn't." Hermione knew her facts and could spout them all endlessly for days on end if anyone cared to let her. "There have been precisely three games played in severely inclement weather. Most games are played under a blue sky, although there is often quite the cloud cover. I'll grant you that." In truth, she disliked Quidditch and everything about it. She longed to be in the dungeons with the Potions Master debating the pros and cons of imported versus domestic Bubotuber Pus.

Meanwhile, in a room lit only by a large-screen computer with a printer spewing out endless sheets of meaningless transcripts of long-forgotten arguments, a lone critic sat and pondered the greatness of her intellect. On the desk stood a marble plaque with a gold inscription "Wank: It's What I Do Best." The forum reader, Mrs. Mandrake, known online as Mandragora, received an urgent instant message from an agitated fellow reader who had spotted something deeply ominous.

DING: CoqTease is online!

Instantly, she took the message while finishing off a dark chocolate stick of an unlikely flavouring. Her fingers began pounding the keyboard even as her tongue worked the last bit of hard chocolate into a soft mass and indecent thoughts about fictional characters swirled through her mind. She savoured moments like these for they came all too infrequently. Good chocolate, really good chocolate was as hard to come by as a really good fic. Both needed to be guarded zealously against penetration by inferior brands. She marvelled at her own absolute and utter perfection, yet readily deferred to the better judgment of her F-List buddies. She had eyes all over the world, for the sun never set on the SS/HG readership and she knew another Wank War was a wink away.

Looking at her computer screen, she sees a message from CoqTease: Red Alert! 'This is my lucky day' she thinks. 'Another bad fic…only a Wank War can save us now!'

CoqTease hurriedly types, "I want the whole fandom put on Red Alert. Post this message on all forums immediately and don't forget to put links!"

"Splendid," Mandragora mumbles as she types each word. "Let's keep the fandom all warm and snugly. It will give the ladies something to do. No one has updated all week and Oh-Oh-Oh-It's-Magic now has a wait time estimate of three years for new fics to be validated."

"I hate to disappoint you, Mandragora, but this is deadly serious. This is not an exercise."

"No? Really? Not an exercise, you say?"

"I repeat. This is not an exercise. There is a horrible fic posted on a major archive. I wanted to poke my own eyes out with pixie sticks when I saw it. It was that painful. Yeah, we're definitely on the verge of another Wank War."

"Good Lord, is it bad grammar, American usage, poor characterisation or controversial taboo material?"

"It may be all of the above, for all I know. I didn't actually read the whole thing."

"What was that last bit? Yahoo jumbled the text, as always."

"Not important, Mandy baby, what I need you to do, however, is to get this message out immediately. Post it everywhere, send instant messages, and use land-line telephone connections if you must. Send smoke signals, pound the war drums and make sure that within the hour we have this ship secure against all unwelcome penetration. Is that understood?"

"Message received and understood."

"Oh, and don't forget to friends-lock your LJ. It could possibly be used to slip information to the enemy."

"I'm way ahead of you there, CoqTease. My LJ is as secure as gold in Gringott's."

"Gringott's was broken into, you know…"

"So it was a poor analogy, the point stands."

"Just do as I say, all right. We can nip this fic before anyone else feels the need to burn their eyes out with hot pokers…or worse, contacts the author and requests a sequel!"

_In order to safeguard the fandom against surprise attacks by horrifically bad fics, the SS/HG Strategic Hit Alarm Group maintains a large force of fanatical fic critics. Each fanatical fic critic maintains an F-List with hundreds of names and contacts listed alphabetically as part of an online database listing every fic ever written in the fandom, even those featuring Ron Weasley as the romantic lead. Separate lists highlight in excruciating detail each and every instance of a Mary Sue, taking pains to cross-reference which fics suffer from Mary Sue-ism and/or the misrepresentation of British sense and sensibilities. These lists are updated daily, manned by volunteers around the globe, and far surpass the sum total of anything ever attempted in earlier fandoms. The only downside is that occasionally the lists are shut down due to technical difficulties._

Meanwhile, at the Viper Pit a new thread has been started discussing what colour underwear Snape wears and under what circumstances Hermione might wear a thong. Within minutes, someone posts an award-winning published study including footnotes from an esteemed academic journal spelling out the exact percentage of British schoolgirls in the latter half of the 1990s that did and did not wear thongs, broken down by both region and relative financial status. This leads to the inevitable arguments about how much dentists earn and whether or not there is any hint in canon about whether Parvati might have had some influence on Hermione's taste in knickers over the years. Once the ensuing brouhaha over edible knickers and how the house elves deal with that sticky situation begins to wear thin, talk once again turns to more important issues…namely, does anyone know a bag boy or pizza delivery man who looks exactly like canon Snape? Somewhere between Snape sightings at Burger King and Nine Inch Nails song lyrics, a link to a new fic is posted and all hell breaks loose.

Greatly annoyed by this not entirely unexpected turn of events, which forced her to close a window with a not work safe bit of fan art involving Snape and Granger, a particularly vociferous member, code-named Buzzkill, takes matters into her own hands. She fires off a terse and to-the-point missive, "How many times have I told you ladies? I don't want any wank on this list!" This is followed by several other relevant posts. "I've read some fics at all kind of archives…read at Fictopia, Fic This and even read one on a dare at Lil Fic'uns. Those were some unbelievably bad fics, let me tell you. I've seen it all! This new fic may be some kind of fandom joke. We need more information." Buzzkill sends an urgent instant message to a trusted buddy and they discuss the situation at hand. Neither has read the offending fic, though one claims to have seen the title mentioned already on several forums. Quickly, they reach an agreement. The situation is indeed dire. The Grim has been spotted.

Buzzkill posts an important and solemn message to everyone on her F-List. In the background, we hear the soft dulcet tones of Evanescence. "Ladies and Gentleman, this is it. The Big One we've all heard about. It's time to go head to head with the biggest Squee Seeker this fandom has ever encountered. Now, I know I haven't been updating this list as often as I probably should have been. But, I'm quite certain that something big is going down in this fandom even as we speak. The DDM warning would never have been issued if **_The Fic _**hadn't actually been posted to a public forum where innocent readers may encounter its mind-numbing depravity. I have a pretty good idea of what kind of emotions this fic will stir up in you and that fills me with pride. Why? Because in my opinion, any decent person would be filled with absolute and total revulsion at the type of scenario depicted in this fic. You wouldn't be a decent human being if it didn't disgust you to no end. The last thing this fandom needs is any depiction of a deeply upsetting reality and how fictional characters may or may not deal with it. Readers everywhere are counting on you to decide for them, to protect all that is holy within this great Ship. And I'll tell you all something else; too…if this turns out to be half as important as I think it will be, many of you will be in line for some serious pimping of yourself or others. Heck, a couple of you might even warrant nifty new icons or even internet banners for display on your own LJs to forever mark the role you played in this latest Wank War. Now get out there and put a stop to this heinous assault on our glorious Ship!"

At another location, LoveBug logs into a chat session and is pleased to see that Streaker is already there. She is immediately informed of the dire situation as reported by the Strategic Hit Alarm Group. "Are you sure, Streaker? Those are some pretty heavy accusations being bandied about there. There have been no reports on the Bulletin Shorts board and the BS board is always on the ball."

"I'm just repeating what I was told." Streaker seemed a little indignant that her word wasn't being taken at face value and included a little frown emoticon with the message. "I heard it's serious but before I could press for details I got splinched from the chat session and can't get back in, and yes, I tried using another name. Nothing works, not even my usual sock puppet alias and that was always fool-proof!"

"Why do I have to do everything?" LoveBug wondered. The duty to track down specifics about a fic posted Merlin only knew where would preclude any thoughts of spending the evening catching up on back issues of Playwitch. LoveBug was most interested in tracking down a particular issue featuring Quidditch players, though she'd heard the most wonderful things about the spread of Lucius Malfoy, who had provided ample evidence of why the Malfoys always walked around as if they were the biggest dicks in the world.

At that very moment, CoqTease was preaching to the converted. "This Squee Seeker has no regard for fanfics, not even her own. This is why I am asking, no, begging for extreme watchfulness on all your parts. Oh, this fic may be a one-shot or a multi-chaptered monstrosity. It may be written under a name we don't recognise or Merlin forbid, one we know and love. How ever it seeks to worm its insidious way into our collective consciousness, we must resist its evil lure and stamp it out now and forever. The future of the ship depends on us. We must not permit its entrance into Fanon-Canon. I have known you wonderful ladies for years and you have never disappointed me. I expect no less this time."

_CoqTease's words illustrated three simple principles of the distressed dungeon damsels. First and foremost, read no authors regardless of how many fics s/he has written and where they are archived unless they are on your trusted F-List. Second, any author who dares to mention certain specific words in their fic should be flamed mercilessly no matter the context. Finally, if you're not sure what to think flame first and let someone else ask questions later. CoqTease then advised her buddies to set their message status to invisible to everyone and block all the offending addresses, thereby eliminating any possibility of contact or further dialogue. The mission was set in stone._

Mandragora catches the tail-end of CoqTease's stirring missive, scrolls back and reads the rest of it, then leans back in her comfy chair. A steaming cup of tea, properly prepared according to the helpful step-by-step instructions she downloaded from the 'How to be British E-Guide', rests smoothly in her hands near her face. She finds the aromatic scent to be both stimulating and relaxing. In her mind, Professor Snape would most certainly prefer this particular type of tea over all others. It suited his acerbic wit and prickly personality while remaining smoothly and understatedly British. At least, that was the result of an online poll in CoqTease's LJ. Though she had initially voted for something else, she's been drinking this kind ever since. She takes a look at the BS Board, expecting to see a notice or two of warning, but is stunned to see nothing of the sort. In fact, the fic in question is actually listed on the BS Board as worthy of reading. This fills her with confusion. If this were **The Fic**, surely the BS Board would not have posted it. She tried to get through to her good pal, Buzzkill, to question this shocking turn of events.

By this time, Buzzkill has found and uploaded the top secret attack file. She orders that all upstanding members read only those fics designated on the master list with the correct secret code. No one should be groping blindly or innocently trusting the random fic function on many archives. Heaven only knows what horrors could befall the SS/HG fandom. We can't afford to lose any members. No, only fics bearing the official seal of approval will be recced here.

With growing confusion and a nagging doubt, Mandragora sends an instant message to CoqTease to inform her that it may be a false alarm or merely a test since none of the various BS boards have issued any warnings; in fact they are recommending the fic in question. "Surely, they wouldn't do that with a piece of heinously horrific hooey, would they? I think the gals at the Viper Pit are testing our mettle with this one." Mandragora stares at the screen for a few moments, and when no message comes through from CoqTease, she continued, "I just don't think we need to take desperate measures here. Our gals will be all over the net with this in no time at all and when they do it will unleash a wicked wank, I can tell you."

For a few moments, there was only a blank screen and Mandragora stared at her own words before CoqTease responded in all caps. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY DISSENT!" Within moments, another message came through. "Recent converts to this ship have no business questioning my judgment."

"But I've been reading this ship for years!" Mandragora tried to protest. "Almost as long as you!"

"You always were and always will be first and foremost a Legolas-Aragorn shipper. Don't deny it!"

"My LOTR fixation has no bearing on my dedication to the SS/HG world. You know that. I jumped on this ship as soon as I heard it was sailing and have been faithful to it ever since."

"I know what you do in your dungeon paradise," began CoqTease. "Don't try and pull any wool over my eyes. I repeat there will be no dissent in the ranks. I will not tolerate fics like this one falling further in, I swore an unbreakable vow to protect this ship. That's what I am doing here, no more no less."

In a stunning burst of insight, Mandragora suddenly saw beyond the silver rainbow and realised that CoqTease had orchestrated the whole episode. 'If a full-blown Wank War were to erupt, it could ruin a site for good. There'd be no letter from exile one merciful morning to save the fandom masses', she thought to herself. She made every effort to rein in the already volatile situation. "Do we really want to start a Wank War?"

CoqTease stood firm. "I will not delete the flames already posted nor tell others to stop voicing concerns on every forum known to the ship, perhaps even launching a few new ones. Who knows? There is something dreadfully wrong with anyone who would not only write a fic like this one, but actually post it to the internet. They knew what they were doing when they posted it. Now, how about you settle yourself down and snuggle up with a good fic and a steaming cup of tea?"

Mandragora finished the last of her tea, then typed a message she never thought she'd type. "I hate to do this, Coq, after all, you've always been there for me, but I think you've gone too far this time. It is my duty to alert the fandom to this false alarm and call the faithful home." She switched to another window, typed a terse message and hit 'send'. She waited, but nothing happened. Only then did she notice the new message at the top of her screen… "All your messages must be moderated." In a flash, she switched back to the IM window. "What is this? You put me on moderation?"

"It's for your own good." CoqTease taunted. She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out her wand, stroking it lovingly as she did so. She set it on her desk where she could see it. It reminded her of Severus. "A decision has been made in consultation with all the mods and well it is completely justified. Once everyone realises that we've passed the point of no return, there will be only one thing left, namely total commitment. The forward thrust of our actions cannot be stopped. There will be no early withdrawal. Do you recall what I said when I launched my LJ Fic List? I said that fic writing was too important to be left to amateurs and I still believe that now, all these years later. The proliferation of poorly managed fic sites with no oversight whatsoever has only served to prove my point several times over. Fic sites need a strong and damning oversight. You can't breed lilacs out of dead land and we want quality fics, right? Sure, there are sites that claim to have oversight. Hell, I've even encountered a few where the mods all claim to be British and to have lived next door to the real-life inspiration for Snape. Does that mean we should blindly follow like lost sheep? Now more than ever, my brand of wank is necessary to safeguard this ship against this kind of criminal ravishment and that is why we fight."

"But you alone can't make these decisions for the whole fandom!"

"It is up to me and big name fans like me to show these dunderheads the door. Enough of your endless whinging. No, they may go into hiding for a brief while, but not this time. Oh no! They're not getting away from me. They can try to hide beneath a rock, but I will force them into the light." CoqTease signed off abruptly. She reached for her wand and smiled as her fingers ran softly over its length before she grasped it firmly at its base. She could feel the creative juices beginning to flow within her. She loved the feel of the hardwood wand in her hand. It reminded her of Severus.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dr. GrapeNut: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Wank**

Chapter 2

Not far away, a small figure sat behind an enormous desk piled high with multiple copies of every Harry Potter book, including all the clue books and the charity ones JK Rowling wrote, as well as a massive stack of notebooks cross-referencing it all. In her hands she held a three-ring binder emblazoned with A Complete History of World Wide Wank. Fanny Wack had just been notified by LoveBug of the current situation and was none too pleased. She pulled up a chart on her computer listing every known archive and the percentage of wank it had generated. This was her pride and joy. She'd spent years on this and now an upstart called CoqTease was ripping it all out from under her by issuing a Wank Order on her own.

"No, there's nothing we can do now. CoqTease has issued a world-wide DDM warning, in the hopes of unleashing a world wide wank and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

Fanny Wack hit the roof when she heard that and went capslock! on LoveBug. "ONLY I HAVE THAT AUTHORITY!"

"CoqTease overrode your authority and issued the wank order on her own." LoveBug struggled to hold back a grin when Fanny Wack responded only with a frown emoticon. "You approved of this, Fanny Wack. You issued the guidelines that allow a subordinate to issue a general wank order if there is reason to believe that the chain of command has been breached and a particularly horrific fic threatens the integrity of the fandom as a whole. And, well, you haven't been online for sometime now, Fanny. The DDM plan was put into effect. Everything is in place and the wank order cannot be recalled without the correct incantation and only CoqTease knows it. We're working our way through every incantation listed in the Lexicon, but that could take hours, substantially longer if it turns out the incantation is case-sensitive."

Fanny Wack sighed in the realisation that the unthinkable had indeed occurred. All the safeguards put in place to limit wank wars had led to a new one. The irony of this was completely lost on Fanny Wack, however. She was annoyed at an underling usurping her power and prerogatives. She read over a transcript of CoqTease's last sermon just before issuing the worldwide DDM order, shaking her head at the sheer chutzpah of it all. She wondered about the reference to the purity and sanctity of the ship.

"Word warriors all around the globe are now flaming the wicked perpetrator of The Fic. I suggest all of you join with us in this sacred and holy endeavour to safeguard our precious fics. We must hold together on this one or we may find ourselves the object of derision in a fuchsia fowl essay or Merlin forbid, rate a page of poorly written wank at Wikipedia. We must rise together. My F-List buddies will have already laid the foundation for the biggest bout of fandom wank ever seen. This will be on a scale hitherto only dreamed about and sure as hell, nothing will stop it now. So jump on the good ship with us. There is no other choice. Merlin willing we will see this through to the triumphant end and the purity and subtle beauty of the ship will be safeguarded for future generations."

"She's an absolute fruitcake!" Fanny Wack muttered under her breath. "I bet she hasn't even read the fic in question!" Fanny Wack hadn't read it either, but such trivialities never mattered much in the past and wouldn't now, either. After all, wank is wank and this was wank war. "LoveBug, I thought we screened all members before promoting them to positions of power within the fandom? Are we checking member profiles at the moment?"

"Of course, only those strongly recommended by at least three members in good standing are even allowed to be considered."

"Then how did CoqTease slip in there? She's threatening the very existence of our fandom with this mindless wank!"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far, Fanny Wack. I mean, we still don't know the extent of the fic or how many archives may have accepted it. Granted there's nothing we can do about the unmoderated sites, but we still have sway over a wide part of the fandom. Let's wait and see what happens once we know more. I don't think anyone would condemn the whole ship based on one instance of wank no matter how massive." In the midst of this discussion, LoveBug received an IM. "Oh, gotta take this message in the other window, Fanny! I'll be right back."

"Hey LoveBug, you ready for the smut session?" Streaker always looked forward to these online sessions of back and forth smut, all done under the guise of plotting a joint fic.

"Not tonight, sweetie. I have a headache…what with all the wank, you know. You understand right?"

"You do still care about our smut-fest fic, don't you?"

"Of course, I do, Streaker! How could you doubt me? You know I live for your smut."

"So why haven't we got together and finished this off?"

"We will, I promise! We'll be the next big thing to hit the fandom, a real collaborative effort. I'll even let you have top billing, but right now Fanny Wack needs me. I'll IM you as soon as I can, all right. If you write any Lucius scenes tonight, write me into them, all right? Thanks!"

LoveBug took a moment to cool down after the brief thought of appearing in a steamy one-shot with Lucius. She then reiterated her belief that the fandom would defend itself from all attacks. A message from one of the online spies came through. She was certain that someone somewhere in cyberspace could get in touch with the instigator, set up a chat session between CoqTease and Fanny Wack, and learn the secret recall incantation.

LoveBug quickly butted in, "I think it's too late already. I mean, given the hour and the time differences involved I think any realistic chance of a recall pretty much went out the window some time ago. Besides, I've seen some of the rousing speeches issued by CoqTease at the Viper Pit and I think once readers get a wind of it, if they haven't already, they're gonna go ape-shit over this! They'll go at this like a starving hippogriff after the last ferret. We can annihilate this fic! I think we should back up CoqTease on this one before the Squee Seeker and the hangers-on can get a foothold on our turf." She let these words sink in. The screen stayed blank but for her own words. She felt the emotion rise and began her own speech. "In fact, I think if we act immediately we can head them off and beat them at their own game. Maybe we could even launch parody fics just to show how bad it really is, even though that may squick those of fainter heart. According to estimates, we already outnumber them and so a pre-emptive strike works to our advantage. Besides, we have dozens of experienced wank-mongers at our disposal. I'm certain we could completely discredit this threat and come out ahead with only marginal, if even that, wank damage to our own fics." LoveBug finally stopped typing and smiled at the screen. She was proud of her stance and aggressive approach to this latest epic wank war.

"It is our avowed policy never to fire the first volley in a wank war." Fanny Wack would not be swayed in her opinion that the attack had to be called off. "We need to find alternatives here. Perhaps offer some constructive criticism, write our own guides to fanfic writing, do something positive."

LoveBug couldn't believe the words flashing across her screen. Before thinking she fired off a quick reply. "I think CoqTease has already invalidated that policy!"

Fanny Wack railed back, "That was not an officially sanctioned fandom wide directive and we still have options left to us. I still think we should go with real constructive criticism handled in a mature and sensitive manner." She was not about to let any upstarts try to pussy-whip her. She'd worked too hard to get where she was and wouldn't let it all slip away like sands through the hourglass.

LoveBug offered an impossible choice. "Look, it comes down to this. We either strike with CoqTease or we strike without CoqTease. Fanny Wack, we are rapidly approaching a moment of truth...Now, truth is not always a pleasant thing, but it is necessary now to make a choice, to choose between two admittedly regrettable but nevertheless, distinguishable post-fic environments. One, where you end up with 200 people deeply offended by the wank, and the other where you end up with 150 million people squicked by the fic." In the face of universal outrage and mass wank, LoveBug firmly held to her belief that submitting to such fics by allowing them to enter the ranks of fanon was tantamount to a night with an impotent Severus. That was a fate worse than being written into Weasley smut.

Fanny Wack, however, refused and rebuffed everything LoveBug wrote. "I will not go down in history as the biggest wank instigator since PtQ lovers and haters railed at each other for years."

LoveBug fired back, "Perhaps, sweet cheeks, it might be better if you took more of an interest in protecting the fandom rather than worrying about your image within it."

Fanny Wack, however, had other ideas. "Do any of you sugarplums know who wrote this fic? Maybe if I can talk to her, we could settle this like mature and responsible adults…off-list." She watched with interest as one of her eyes and ears in the field typed out a name. "All right, splendid. Put me in touch with this Asphodellyn Wormwood as soon as possible. Send her an invitation to our private chat!"

"We can't let non-members into our private forum! She'll see **The List**!" LoveBug couldn't believe that Fanny Wack would ever allow hostile outsiders inside the sacred and hallowed folders of their personal forum.

At that very moment, Buzzkill was looking over her survival files. She intended to upload them to her personal site that very evening in preparation for the latest wank war, possibly only hours away.

-One link to a reputable and highly-recommended British/American dictionary

-One link to the Lexicon

-One link to a new site detailing everything that the Lexicon got wrong

-Fifteen links to particularly enjoyable mass wanks of the past

-One link to a random wank generator

Buzzkill smiled. She'd had loads of fun since discovering that random wank generator. All you needed to do was enter in the author's name and the title of the fic in question. The generator did the rest. This made it very easy to write up lengthy bits of wank and have the time to cross-post all over the fandom, even the occasional cross-link in other fandoms just to stir up more wank. 'Life is good', she mused to herself.

Ding! Fanny Wack checked her screen, a small smile crawling over her features. "It's someone who goes by the name Widgy, claims to be a good buddy of Asphodellyn Wormwood. I'm gonna clear her to enter, ladies!"

Widgy signed in quickly, issued a terse greeting to all present and then posted a list of two hundred names of validated writers who had either left positive reviews or sent encouraging e-mails to the author of The Fic. "I think that list speaks for itself, ladies."

"Hey, you ripped that list off my LJ, didn't you?" LoveBug was incensed. "I recognize those names."

"Of course you do, they're all upstanding long-time members of the fandom…and…each one… of… them has come down in favour of this fic."

"If the author is so confident about it, then where is she?" LoveBug was in no mood for this. She wanted first-rate wank, not second-hand.

"She'll be online within the hour. She is, after all, only human and does have a life outside the fandom, as hard as that may be for some people to believe."

LoveBug suddenly fired off, "You wrote 'Dungeon Degenerate', didn't you! I knew your name sounded familiar. You perverted sicko!"

"Ladies, there will be no wank in Wank Headquarters! Do I make myself clear?" Fanny Wack wanted to stay in control of this situation, though things seemed to be hurtling forward at an alarming rate. She was beginning to think that nothing less than a major miracle would alleviate the situation. She kept that thought to herself, however.

_Meanwhile, in the vast expanse of cyberspace fanfic readers the world over were logging into their favourite sites, clicking on links and IM'ing buddies with comments as they began to look over The Fic. They believed all that their forum leaders had posted about the fic and curiously began poking around the various comments being frantically cross-posted across the fandom. A few even clicked on to the fic in question. "You know, parts of this fic are actually really good!" "The author probably cut/pasted those bits from a reputable writer! I read that on LJ somewhere, I think." "The nerve of some people. Well, I hope she gets what's coming to her!" "So, who's your favourite on Idol this season?" The Wank War was beginning as new fans began posting in response to other posts. Many of these posts were rapidly degenerating into personal flames against other posters, rather than the fic itself or even the author. The fact remained that most of those posting had not read the fic in its entirety, if at all. Yet, everyone had an opinion and wanted it voiced on every conceivable forum at once. _

LoveBug, Fanny Wack and Widgy watched as the storm surge of posts began upping comment counts everywhere. Finally, a ray of hope dawned amid the growing insanity. Fanny Wack had made contact with the writer of The Fic, Asphodellyn Wormwood. The moment of happiness upon making contact proved to be quite fleeting. There were important matters to discuss, urgent matters that could not be postponed.

"It's nice to see you, Asphodellyn Wormwood. Yeah, yeah, we have a lot to discuss." The screen name disappeared. "Wait! We haven't even started yet! Damn! She left already."

"Maybe she just got splinched," LoveBug offered. "You know that happens all the time."

"Yeah, maybe, but I...OH...there she is. Asphodellyn! Welcome back." The conversation resumed, but privately so that only Fanny Wack was privy to what Asphodellyn had to say. "Yeah, it's good to see you, too. Oh, you read that? I'm flattered. I like your work, too. What have I read? Well, er, I…uh…I've heard some good things about your latest fic and well, strangely enough, that's why we need to talk today."

"Anyhoo, you know all the groups talk about the dangers of wank and that the possibility, however remote, is always there for wank to get out of hand? Yes, wank…you know what I mean…yeah, I agree some places inspire more wank than others…yes, yes absolutely. We do need to be in control of the wank and not the other way around."

LoveBug checked the other window and noticed that the post counts, all bearing the same header, were already going through the roof. 'There's nothing they can do now', she thought. 'But who am I to not let them enjoy their own brand of wank?'

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But the thing is that some of my buddies have sort of taken things into their own hands and well, they…hmmm…there's no easy way to put this, so I'll just have to come right out and say it bluntly, so please don't take it personally, ok? They have launched a Wank War against your fic!"

"Well, how do you think I feel Asphodellyn? Why else would I have spent ages trying to get in touch with you? Do you think I'm after one-on-one wank? This is a friendly chat and I wanted to give you a heads-up on what's happening so you're not broadsided by an inbox full of hate mail. I thought maybe I could give you a list of reviewers whose opinions really aren't worth a dead flobberworm, if you get my drift. I tell you what, how about this idea? If we can't call off the Wank War, I'll post a retraction on your site, but I'll need a link. What do you mean you don't have a link? It's your site!"

"Well, just let me say I'm sorry this ever happened. In fact, I may even be sorrier than you that any of this happened. Don't contradict me or compare me to Sirius! You don't know how I feel. All right. We're both pretty sorry. Yes, pathetic, too. We're both pathetically sorry. Does that make you feel better?"

Widgy switched briefly to another window to accept an IM. She gasped in horror. "The fools! The fools! They've branded the fic the Doomsday Fic! A fic that will destroy the fandom as we know it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Dr. GrapeNut: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Wank**

Chapter 3

"Are you there Mandragora?"

"Yeah, what is it CoqTease?"

"Have you ever seen a RW/HG shipper write really good smut? And I mean the really hot toe-curling variety that makes you all sweaty kind of smut?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I guess not. Though, there was this one fic that I thought had a bit of potential, but…"

CoqTease would not justify that statement with even a comment. She just let it go. She was on a roll, almost a sacred mission. "Have you ever wondered why that is? I'll tell you. Most of the RW/HG shippers are pubescent girls fantasising in a study period at school. They're not mature women like you and I. No, they're kids, pure and simple and that is reflected in the writing. You can't write what you don't know and they don't know their own arse or anyone else's from the proverbial hole in the ground."

"Not all of them are kids, you know."

"Don't use that argument with me, Mandy Baby! I know what I'm talking about. My next door neighbour's niece used to know someone who was buddies with a lady whose uncle once worked for a major publisher! I know what I'm talking about here, all right? I'd appreciate it if you didn't constantly question me like this because frankly, it's irritating and my patience is wearing thin."

"All right, point taken, but what does any of that have to do with this?"

"My point is that good smut is what attracts more than three-quarters of the readership to this particular ship. SS/HG has always been noted for spectacular award-winning smut. It's why we're here. It is the meaning of fic."

"I guess I never realised."

"Yeah, you never see what's directly in front of your face, do you? But, seriously, I bet that over ninety percent of readers come to these archives looking for quality smut involving Severus Snape and Hermione Granger and there's nothing wrong with that. It's what made me come here. Haven't you ever wondered why I never read at other sites?"

"Well, yeah, I noticed. I just figured you didn't have time to read a lot of other fics."

"No, no…nothing like that. It's about dubious consent fics. Now, I'm not saying there's not wack-jobs out there who get off on that sort of thing. All I'm saying is that I don't think a quality site should encourage it. I don't care how well-written or thoughtfully it may be handled. Some things are just wrong no matter how you approach them. These kinds of fics put a stain on what should be good clean smut. Do you follow that? It's a plot, I tell you! There's a fiendish plot underway to undermine the entire SS/HG fandom with a vast array of dubious consent fics and that makes us all look bad, every bit as bad as the sick weirdoes who write that rubbish in the first place!"

Just then, the queue at CoqTease's favourite site went through the roof with new submissions. She clicked on the first one and frowned. She then checked the second and third, but found they were all similar. Each and every one of them featured dubious consent in one form or another. "Oh, you think you can beat me that way, do you? Well, two can play at that game and I have mod privileges here!" She fired off a quick message to Mandragora. "Can you log into the site and help me admin these monstrosities? I've got a new rejection file set up that should scare these bumbling wannabes." When no immediate response came through, she sent the message again. "Come on, Mandragora! In the name of JK Rowling and the Order of the Phoenix, help me shoot down these pervs!"

"I gotta go," Mandragora responded. "The in-laws are coming over and I have to pick cat hair off the sofa before they get here!" She signed off quickly, but logged in under another name to watch silently from the sidelines.

At that very moment, tempers were flaring at Wank Headquarters. "What in Heaven's name ever made any of you ladies think that this fic was worthy of a Wank War? Especially after so many people left positive reviews?" Widgy was incredulous.

"Reviews don't always mean anything, you know. Sometimes we do it just to make the authors feel good."

"So tell me, why if the fic is not to your liking can't you just hit the back button and leave well enough alone?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Oh, I don't believe this!" Widgy clicked over to her MySpace account to calm down with her own circle of sycophants. After a bit, she returned. There was still much to be said and discussed. "Do you know about the Doomsday Fic?"

"Of course," Fanny Wack typed in, wondering where this was headed. "It's a fanon legend. It's a fic so horrific that it could destroy the fandom as we know it."

"Exactly," responded Widgy. "So you do realise the significance of what your F-list buddies have done by branding this fic the Doomsday Fic?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Widgy! It's a legend. It's all made up, a story, kind of like the fics we write, well the ones some of us write anyway."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it's just that some of us write really good fics and shouldn't be lumped in with the lowly masses of dunderheads." Fanny Wack was immensely proud of her own work and wanted only to help others, by deeply unpleasant force if necessary, whether they wanted to hear it or not.

"You really have a high opinion of yourself, don't you?"

"I earned the right to have a high opinion of myself. I've got three fics and two one-shots published on reputable moderated archives. I am a moderator myself." No one had ever questioned her before and she was not pleased to be lumped in with substandard, in her opinion, writers.

"What if I told you there really was a Doomsday Fic?" Widgy knew all about it because she had beta'd it for a good buddy and kept it as a secret weapon, never thinking that it might actually see the light of day. She had had too much faith that the fandom would not allow the wank to ever get that far out of hand. Now it had, and the Doomsday Fic would be published to each and every Harry Potter archive known to exist everywhere around the world. There was only silence, followed by several question marks and exclamation points, but no words printed across her screen. "Yeah, that shocks you, doesn't it?"

"It's a legend and nothing more. We all like fantasy, hell, that's why we read Harry Potter and write it ourselves. It's a legend, a fairy tale, that's all."

"It's very real and if the wank gets out of hand, which I think by your own admission it already has, a response will be immediate. The Doomsday Fic will be published to every archive in the world, new sites will be set up and it will be published there. It will appear on countless Live Journals and MySpace accounts. A paper copy will be printed and mailed directly to JK Rowling herself, as well as her publisher for good measure. A cry for a century-long moratorium on Potter fics will rise up. That will be extended to Potter fan art because there are quite a few colour illustrations of the Doomsday Fic, too. Legal action will be taken. Lives will be lost. It will destroy the fandom as we know it. There will be nothing left."

"That's not true," LoveBug interjected. "It's a bald-faced lie and nothing more than a pitiful writer's attempt to scare decent readers into not flaming substandard fics!"

"I'm inclined to agree with LoveBug on this. It would be absolute madness to write such a fic and seriously consider posting it everywhere. That's crazy!"

"But it's all true." Widgy tried to explain, knowing she was fighting a losing battle. Any attempt to stop the Doomsday Fic would result only in a faster posting of said fic to every archive. It could not be stopped.

"Why would anyone write such a fic in the first place? What possible purpose would it serve?" Fanny Wack was deeply concerned now.

"Oh, there were those of us who argued against it. But in the end, we could not keep up with the other archives. Our authors were being flamed to death and many left the fandom. The problem was that the readers demanded new fics and faster than what we could write. That affected the quality of the fics, which resulted in more flames, causing more authors to flee faster than Severus and Draco off the Astronomy Tower. What could we do? We couldn't keep doing that. The status quo was killing us. So, a small group of writers took it on themselves to write a Doomsday Fic as a defence against the increasing levels of wank. In the end, that proved easier to accomplish. The deciding factor was when we read a thread at your site about such a fic being written by your authors. We couldn't allow a Doomsday gap to emerge. You left us no choice."

"Just a moment," Fanny Wack typed in and switched to an IM session with a big-name fan known only as Dr. GrapeNut, a secluded figure few knew personally, but who was known and respected far and wide as a fandom analyst as well as a fic expert. Dr. GrapeNut had been known by many screen names, the most recent having been adopted in homage of her preferred ship in the Harry Potter fandom. No one anywhere in the world was as fanatical as she about issues in the world of Granger/Snape fanfic. Dr. GrapeNut was a world-renowned fic expert, having taken great pains to cover up involvement in her previous fandom, that of Velma/Daphne femmeslash.

With her bubbling cauldron icon, Dr. GrapeNut logged into the forum chat. She considered it a pity that no one could see her. Whenever she wrote fanfic or logged in to any forums, she was always in costume…the perfect black wig made her hair look like Severus' hair (shiny not greasy), her multi-buttoned frockcoat held in the excess pounds from her last baby and a billowing black cape that she sewed herself so that it was perfect in every way, completed the look. Her wand rested on her desktop in plain view when she wrote; otherwise she held it lovingly in her firm grasp. It reminded her of Severus.

"Dr. GrapeNut, what can you tell us about this Doomsday Fic?" Fanny Wack needed advice on how to proceed and none came more highly recommended than Dr. GrapeNut.

"I can confirm that there is such a Doomsday Fic in existence. Of that I am absolutely certain."

"But how can you be so sure? You can't believe everything you hear on the internet."

"My dear little friend, we had considered writing such a fic ourselves. After lengthy and very involved consultations with SHAG and SNOG, a secret closed membership group whose acronym name cannot be explained to the uninitiated, we came to the conclusion that it was inherently pointless, impractical and not worth the risk. We decided it was a bad idea for reasons that should be all too apparent right now. Such a Doomsday Fic could never be a practical deterrent to bad fics and so we abandoned our own plans to write one." No one dared to type anything. Dr. GrapeNut was pleased with the deference she inferred from their silence.

"Allow me to explain further. The skill needed to write such a fic is possessed by nearly everyone who can pound a keyboard. It takes no special talent. Such ability is well within the reach of even the most pathetic writers in the fandom. It requires not skill, but only the will to do it. The very essence of the Doomsday Fic is that a certain level of wank will trigger its publication and any attempt to untrigger it will be viewed as additional wank, thus serving only to hasten the inevitable publication of the worst fic monstrosity ever conceived of in any fandom. How do we deter pitiful writers from posting bad fics? We can post lengthy well-written reviews, which are probably not understood nor are they appreciated by the writers of whom I speak. We can flame them mercilessly, but many laugh off flames. Hell, I wouldn't put it past some writers to deliberately write mindless pabulum in the hopes of unleashing some wank. I've done it myself once or twice for shits and giggles. No, the whole point of real deterrence is to produce in the mind of the bad writer the fear of posting. What this Doomsday Fic does is remove the fear of bad reviews or flames. There is no human element left because it can be automatically triggered by a set of criteria, say a certain level of wank within a set time frame, programmed into a hidden archive somewhere within an enormous framework of computers, in other words the internet. With no human debate possible once a certain level of wank has been reached, nothing can stand in its way. It will be posted no matter what anyone in the fandom does or tries to do and for that reason, it is absolutely terrifying. So simple to understand, magnificent to contemplate and so utterly damning to any who stand in its path."

LoveBug responded cheekily, "I wish I had written such a fic! Just picture the notoriety that would come with that. The after-shocks would be felt worldwide in every fandom."

No one paid any attention to LoveBug, who seemed to have missed the point. Dr. GrapeNut had one final question. "Widgy, tell me…the whole efficacy of a Doomsday Fic as far as wank-prevention goes depends on everyone knowing it's real, yet it was kept secret. The whole fandom believed it to be an internet myth. Why did you never tell anyone that it existed? Why all the secrecy?"

"We intended to announce it at the next chat. You know how Asphodellyn loves to surprise people."

At that very moment at another site, CoqTease was exchanging harsh words with the writers of the dubious consent fics that continued to flood her beloved site. Mandragora had relented and signed back in to check on her dear friend and co-conspirator in so many wank-fests of the past. In short, CoqTease was not having a good day. In fact, she was cracking up. Her room was a complete shambles, hardly surprising since she'd been hurling objects in every direction after noting each new dub-con fic. She'd tried to fire off nasty personal attacks against the authors, but they all responded with more wank of their own and she had neither slept nor read any decent fics since spotting the one that had launched this whole episode in the first place. LoveBug tried to offer words of comfort and solace as best she could under the circumstances, but it appeared to be all in vain.

"Do you realise that it's not just dubious consent in M or NC-17 rated SS/HG fics that's threatening us? No, there's a plot underway to flood the fandom with dubious consent in all possible ships and ratings!" She was on a roll now. "Oh yes, it's now in Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Neville/Ginny…it's even in Neville/Luna! Neville/Luna for crying out loud! How can there be a dubious consent fic about Neville/Luna? And they're finding ways to insinuate it at lower ratings. I've even seen a G-rated fic involving Arthur and Molly Weasley that featured dub-con as a primary focus!" She paused to fire off a few more volleys to shameless writers the world over. She intended to go down fighting. "Yes, they're introducing this dub-con into every facet of the fandom. That's the kind of people they are."

"Can I ask you something, CoqTease? How did you find out about all this stuff?"

"I first realised it while reading a particular fic that sounded good in the summary and even had quite a number of positive reviews. It seemed like a really good and uplifting fic, but the more I read the more dejected and sick I felt. I tried to ignore my feelings, but they demanded to be heard. They would plague me day and night, even in my sleep. There was no escape and so I let my thoughts roam and let my fingers do the walking over my keyboard and I realised what was happening. The loss of clean smut, the complete and utter absence of fic purity in other words, was affecting my ability to really enjoy reading fic, if you know what I mean. It drains the ability to appreciate a fic climax. But I recognised what had led to that state of affairs and I've been more careful since then. It has never happened again. No, I don't avoid the allure of smut fics, but I do deny the perpetrators of dub-con the climax they seek, namely my stamp of approval."

The assault of dub-con fics continued like a torrential downpour. CoqTease's F-list buddies began logging out one after the other until only she and LoveBug were left. "It's over. They're gone. You know, those gals were like family to me, but this time they just let me down." Symbolically, and most tragically, CoqTease had allowed her wand to fall from her limp fingers to the floor.

"Maybe we could still try to call off the Wank War and things will go back to the way they were before all this got started. We could start anew; maybe even collaborate on a new fic together? What do you day, CoqTease?" Mandragora tried valiantly to interest CoqTease in a new joint fic full of good clean smut. "It doesn't have to end like this, CoqTease. Take me, for example, I read some dub-con, as long as it comes highly recommended and it is handled sensitively, and I can still get off reading fic. Probably at least once per week, I can overlook a questionable content fic and move on to a good raw and raunchy smut scene, no problems whatsoever."

"Have you ever been tortured by a fic, Mandragora?"

"Well, back when I was new to the fandom and got my first admin position, we used to have to read the most puerile pabulum this side of a Goo Goo Gazette. I mean, there were some Draco/OFC stories that could have been really hot in the hands of a skilled author, but ended up as limp as raw bacon. Reading those was torture. The funny thing is that some of those authors were such good artists. They had some amazing artwork!"

"You know, they're all gonna rake me over the coals to get the code. They'll drag my name through the mud. I'll be a persona non grata within the fandom. They'll do whatever it takes to make me divulge the secret password. I don't think I could withstand having my name be held in lower esteem than the ones writing the dub-con in the first place. I just don't think I could deal with that."

Mandragora sensed an opportunity to negotiate with CoqTease and tried to take it. "Well, no one enjoys that kind of thing. I mean who could? So, you could just tell me the password…the incantation…right now. It could be just like the old days, Coq! You writing a fic and me squeeing all over the fandom about how wonderful it is. Just me and you again, writing and reccing good fic!"

"I have to tell you, Mandy, I believe in a fandom after this one. I think I'm ready to move on. I know I'll have to answer for what I've done." As Mandragora began guessing possible incantations, CoqTease calmly deleted all her stories from every archive and unsubscribed all her groups. As Mandragora tried desperately to head off the final disaster, CoqTease committed fandom suicide.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dr. GrapeNut: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Wank**

Chapter 4

In a secret and by invitation-only chat room, Buzzkill was online and deep in planning the big wank attack. An operative in the field sent an urgent IM, "We have an unconfirmed report of a Lockhart List being posted." Unbeknownst to Buzzkill, Fanny Wack had made good on her promise to Asphodellyn to send a list of critics whose opinions and reviews were not worth a dead flobberworm in an attempt to head off the potential damage their wank would cause once it was unleashed.

"Can we head it off and delete it before anyone sees it?" Buzzkill tried every evasive manoeuvre known to forum leaders.

"I don't think so. It's already being discussed on several forums."

"Private ones?" Buzzkill was nothing if not an eternal optimist. That was usually the case excepting during long dry spells when there were no new hot Severus/Lucius/Hermione threesomes being written.

"No, unfortunately not."

"Damn!" Buzzkill was not in the least deterred by this turn of events. She'd earned her sheriff badge. She was no two-bit deputy playacting a role. This was war and she was well-prepared. "Do we have any word on whose names are on this Lockhart List?" She already had a good idea, but wanted confirmation.

"Well, for starters you are, Buzzkill, and everyone on your F-list."

"Which one?"

"All of them." The reply sent a shock wave through the chat room. Fortunately, all were still present and accounted for once the initial uproar began to ebb.

"Ladies, restrain yourselves. Save the wank for where it will hurt the most. We're still on course to unleash the biggest bout of fandom wank ever seen and no piddling Lockhart List is going to throw us off course. We can do this, ladies. I know it and I have the utmost faith in you. Let's do this for Severus, all right?"

Back at CoqTease's site, Mandragora tried to gain access to the locked areas. CoqTease had committed fandom suicide without turning the site over to a new admin or revealing the secret password. After several minutes of guessing, Mandragora managed to gain access to the private part of the site. Almost immediately, she noticed a lot of random scribbles, never before published or publicly acknowledged in any way, and all of them having to do with Severus and a certain part of his anatomy.

A sudden message flashed on Mandragora's screen, "Who gave you permission to be in the admin threads?" Bludger, a fanatical Severus fan and leader of one of the special attack forces, had gained access to the admin portion of the site.

Mandragora did not have a clue how that had come to pass, but she questioned the intruder. "Who are you and what do you want?" She always loved to slip in quotes from the film versions of the books.

"Bludger's the name and from that you can guess my game." The font was huge and red. Mandragora considered for a moment asking her to tone it down, but decided the situation was already volatile enough. Bludger spoke up again before she could respond anyway. "I could ask you much the same thing. I was told to find CoqTease and yet I find you here. Who are you?" Bludger began scrolling through the files looking for anything that could be of use, but found nothing other than a few poorly executed drawings and a lot of practice wank.

Mandragora was incensed. She considered herself a long-time and thoroughly upstanding member and was being questioned as if she didn't belong there. "I'll have you know, sweet cheeks, I am Mandragora, a close confidante of CoqTease and an executive officer here at this site."

"Well don't that just make you someone special? How about you and me have a nice little chat about CoqTease? I'm dying to hear what all you know about her."

"Normally, that would be a wonderful suggestion, but at the moment, I'm afraid I have a more pressing concern." Mandragora had had a sudden insight into CoqTease's madness. She'd read and reread the seemingly meaningless scribbles and in a flash she had an epiphany. She knew the secret incantation. "It's vitally important that I get word through to my master. I am all but certain, well I hope I am reasonably close, at least on the right trail…"

"Get to the point, darling!"

"I know the secret incantation that could stop the Wank War! It's a recurrent theme in her unpublished ramblings here. Don't you know that she went off the deep end? She orchestrated this whole wank war herself. She's crazy. Don't you know that?" Frantically, she typed a message and frowned when she saw a little bar filling up with green blocks at the bottom of the screen. "Not now! For the love of Severus Snape and everything in the Potterverse don't time out on me now!"

Cannot find server were the only words on an otherwise white screen.

"Aaahhhhhh!" Mandragora pounded her fists on the desktop before standing up and then banging her head against the wall. Some days, she honestly believed she was cursed. 'They are out to get me,' she thought to herself.

Meanwhile, back in a private chat room, Buzzkill discussed the damaged reputations of herself and the others caused by the leaked Lockhart List. Several of their sites and journals had received some blows, but none so serious as to knock them out of commission. Still, the very idea of someone publicly challenging the value of her stellar reviews irked her to no end. There would be hell to pay if she had anything to do about it and in fact, she did. She addressed the others, "All right ladies, we've all taken some serious hits to our reputations and received some nasty comments from people we don't know. It goes without saying that many of our fine fics will be shamelessly flamed for no reason other than a petty low blow of retaliation. They think we can't take it. They think we're just going to go cower in a corner and play with our wands. Well, ladies, I say differently! Let them send hate mail to us! Let them flame our fics and leave scathing anonymous reviews! Let them write silly little Lockhart Lists and publish them all over the internet! None of that frightens me and do you know why? It's because I know that we're not out of this fight yet. Not all of our names are known far and wide and I know that some of us will easily fly under their radar and be able to deliver a blow where it hurts. We can still get this done and deliver a wank to end all wanks and there ain't no stopping us now!" She gushed with enthusiasm.

At CoqTease's former site, things were going from bad to worse. Bludger had started to delete all files and remove moderator privileges in preparation for closing down the whole site. Mandragora was incensed, but powerless to stop it. All she could do was sit and watch years of work go down the drain. "Why are you doing this, Bludger? Couldn't you just delete the whole damn thing in one fell swoop and be done with it?"

"Nah, if I did it that way, it would be over too quickly!"

"This is all just a game to you, isn't it?"

"I repeat my words from earlier…I could say much the same thing about you." Bludger deleted the last file, and then deleted the entire forum. It was over. Bludger issues a blunt and somewhat unfriendly message to Mandragora, "If you want to discuss any of what just happened here, follow this link to another forum." Bludger shakes her head in disgust. 'They were perverts, sexual deviants, every last one of them and CoqTease was easily the worst of the lot. They were right to close this forum down. Merlin only knows what evils they might have unleashed otherwise. I bet that Mandragora is one, too. Hell, she even admitted it just a few minutes earlier!'

Mandragora sensed that she was being accused of something and followed the link. She demanded, "What the hell is going on here? You hack into our site, delete everything and then delete the whole site without even giving me a reason why you did so?" She couldn't believe it had happened. Though part of her was still numb, the anger was rising furiously.

Bludger explained, "I just did what I was told to do. I was told to get CoqTease online to have a little tête-à-tête with Fanny Wack. That's why I went looking and hacked my way in. I was trying to find CoqTease but what do I find? A whole load of really bad and perverted sick smut, that's what"

"We didn't write that! We were being spammed!" Mandragora tried to explain, but had the unnerving suspicion that everything she said was being ignored.

"I think CoqTease knew it was you doing all of this and tried to stop you, only you beat her to the punch and locked her out of her own site so you could use it for your own perverted and nefarious ends!"

"Oh bollocks!" Snape's anger right after Dumbledore refused to expel James Potter and Sirius Black following the Prank was nothing compared to what Mandragora felt at that moment. "How about you let me talk to Fanny Wack? I'm second in command after CoqTease."

"You're a pervert!"

"I am a respected member of the fandom, a renowned writer and a prolific poster. If you don't let me speak with Fanny Wack, believe me when I'm through with you, you'll be lucky if you are allowed to join a Tales of Trelawney archive or write snippets for a Dudley Dursley Does Devon screenplay on an amateur video site! Do I make myself clear?"

Reluctantly, Bludger agreed to allow Mandragora to attempt to contact Fanny Wack. "I'll let you send one invitation to an IM session, but if you start writing anything perverted, you're out of here in a flash! Got that?"

Mandragora sent a request for an IM to Fanny Wack, but was splinched before she could ask anything. "Password? But I already entered a password?" She typed furiously, but felt she was on the road to nowhere. "What do you mean 'password does not match'? That's ridiculous." Mandragora realised she would not gain entrance into the chat room and tried to reason with Bludger for assistance. "I'm gonna need your help on this."

"What can I do? I can't log you in from here." Bludger was still deeply suspicious of Mandragora, believing her to be a pervert who spams sites with poorly written dubious consent fics.

Somehow, somewhere, someone must have done something. Fanny Wack got word about the recall incantation and immediately issued it on every forum to which she belonged. She believed a major crisis had been averted at the very last minute. She posted the good news and celebrations began to break out far and wide across the fandom, at least among members of that forum who were online at that moment. LoveBug immediately penned and posted a drabble of grateful thanks on behalf of the fandom faithful everywhere to mark the occasion.

_Thank Merlin for this hallowed deliverance from pitiful fics and asinine writers. You have seen fit to deliver us from written depravity and afford the opportunity to read and salivate over quality smut in outstanding fics for now and all eternity. Yay! We have seen horrid fics threaten our ship and have fought off traitors from within. We have upheld our convictions and laboured day and night so that the fics we write will be enjoyed by all. We will remember this moment. Future fans will take stock of what we have done and remark, "This was their finest hour."_

The ensuing mass squee-age was rudely cut short by a sudden comment from a thoroughly irate Asphodellyn Wormwood. She told Fanny Wack in no uncertain terms that one of the assault groups has not been neutralised. "Hey, a group of your wank warriors hasn't stopped. We have reason to believe that they intend to launch a wank war at Barclay's."

Fanny Wack turned to LoveBug, "I thought all the groups received the recall incantation and had turned back? What's going on? Who didn't get the message?"

LoveBug, secretly thrilled that one of the groups was still active and that the Wank War would go on as planned, could barely contain her glee. "Well, maybe one of the groups was offline. I mean, like Widgy reminded us earlier, some people do pursue activities offline." Laughing and singing under her breath she made a few inquiries from her own sources, and then switched back to Fanny Wack. "It's Buzzkill's group. She probably hasn't heard since none of them have been in chat for awhile and we can't get through to them."

Asphodellyn was enraged. "What do you mean you can't get through to them? You can send an IM, can't you? What about sending an e-mail? Doesn't someone have an actual phone number you could call and put a stop to this nonsense?"

LoveBug became very suspicious and just couldn't leave well enough alone. "I think it's a trap, a big old dub-con trap, if you ask me. I know a rat when I smell one and I smell one right now! I mean, what if this Asphodellyn is lying about a group of wank warriors getting through? We back down now and we're sitting ducks. That's just asking to be bombarded with a bevy of bad fics!"

Fanny Wack was ready to sacrifice Buzzkill if it would save the fandom from the Doomsday Fic being published. "Look, Asphodellyn, all you need to do is send your entire F-List to head them off. Get all the admins at that site online and delete flames as they come in. Throw everything you have at that one site and everything should be all right. I mean, you ought to be able to rally enough buddies to defend one site, right?"

"You want me to take care of the problem that your buddies caused?"

"Look, it doesn't benefit either one of us if the Doomsday Fic is published. Neither of us wants that. I'm sorry that this group of wank warriors somehow flew under the radar and is trying to engage you in a wank exchange at Barclay's."

Asphodellyn went ballistic and typed some unforgivable words.

"Asphodellyn calm down! Don't go crazy on me. That serves no purpose and doesn't do a damn thing about the problem at hand. I've told you…all you need to do is launch everything you have at that one site and the problem will be eliminated. What more can I do? I've even given you all their screen names! Throw everything at that one site and you can't miss!"

Unbeknownst to all of them, however, Buzzkill realised that someone had advance notice of the pending attack at Barclay's and decided that it might be far more advantageous to attack where it would be least expected. "Ladies, I think a change of plans is in order. I know we all want to unleash some wicked wank and well, I think word may have been leaked as to which site we would target. We haven't gone this far only to pull out now! No, we will complete what we started and reach a satisfying climax. I believe it's in our best interests to alter our target and go after Collywobbles instead. They'll never see us coming. We can all sneak right in there, unleash some wicked wank and be safely out of there before they even know what hit them!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: "Thanks for the Memories" belongs to Bob Hope**

**Dr. GrapeNut: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Wank**

Chapter 5

Fanny Wack was despondent after signing off with Asphodellyn. "LoveBug, is there really a chance that we night not be able to head off that attack group. Are they really going to go ahead and unleash all that wank?"

LoveBug, in stark contrast, could not have been happier about the whole turn of events. She cheerfully explained, "Fanny Wack, if I may speak freely, Asphodellyn Wormwood talks a might fine line and for all I know if she ever pulled her head out of her arse maybe she could even write a really good fic, too. But you can't blame our readers for reacting like this. I mean, how can you expect a bunch of ignorant peons to fully comprehend the beauty of the kind of fics we're trying to write here? They can't and they won't. It's no use even trying." LoveBug was on a roll again. "I mean, take your average fic writer. We all know what little talent she has. Look at all those god-awful fics that have been posted and yet they won't quit! Now, if the wank warrior is really good and can aim the wank to a spot where it will do the most damage in the least amount of time, just kind of slip it right in there before anyone knows what's happening…that's a thing of beauty, that is!"

"You think they're gonna pull this off?"

"Pull it off? Hell yeah! They're gonna p…" Only then did LoveBug fully appreciate the gravity of what she'd just typed into the chat. She knew and realised what was about to happen. She gaped open-mouthed at her computer screen.

Buzzkill appeared to be having the time of her life as the Wank War assault group prepared to launch a mass attack against the fic site, Collywobbles. Buzzkill made her final preparations as she sang, "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree." She loved that song, though she'd admitted it only to a few of her closest buddies. It reminded her of Severus for some reason. She and a trusted buddy did a final check of the wank before unleashing it. Verbal zingers, anonymous alliterative attacks, poisonous prose and a chat room transcript full of all the words you can't say on television. Everything was ready and Buzzkill was about to give the order to launch the first wave of the assault, but then she noticed that two of the gimp gifs were non-functioning. "Bloody hell!" she shrieked. "You ladies go on and start without me. I'm going to go down and see what I can do."

The gifs in question, identified only by their code names 'Flaming Fairy' and 'WandWaver', consisted of devastatingly disturbing images guaranteed to make even the toughest nails feel violently ill. Buzzkill began playing with the coding, singing a slightly reworked version of 'Love Potion #9, as she feverishly worked to repair the malfunctioning gifs. Suddenly, both were operational and she let out with a whoop her 'round the world…literally. She had inadvertently sent the gifs not only to the site targeted, but to everyone in her address book as well, including her elderly grandmother in Peoria. Consumed by a nearly orgasmic burst of raw pleasure at her success and completely oblivious to the growing horror her family members were experiencing as they one by one became aware of just how deep her obsession with Severus Snape had gone, she repeatedly typed 'Yahoo' until she was abruptly cut off for unknown reasons.

Meanwhile, back at Wank Headquarters, all watched in stunned silence as the first volleys of the most epic Wank War ever waged were fired. Dr. GrapeNut suddenly announced, "You know, all is not lost! I have made some calculations concerning how we may yet survive a century-long moratorium on Potter fics! We can go underground, my Lord." It was a slip of tongue that revealed Dr. GrapeNut's real loyalty and identity as a secret OFC/Voldemort shipper as she contemplated a century of underground fics written only by the best authors the fandom could find. It would be just like the good old days before fics were online. She continued in her rapture, "No, it would be all too easy actually to convene a small group of only the prime specimens…a small, secret and highly selective group of fic writers who could fill an underground archive with the crème de la crème of fic! I assure you, it would be only too easy to assemble such a group and bury it so far underground that no wank could reach it!"

"How long would we need to stay underground with fics? Would it really go as long as you said before?" Fanny Wack was numb at the impending loss of all her reviews on all those archives that were about to go up in smoke, but at the same time, very desperate to hold onto whatever possibility of quality Potter fic she could.

Dr. GrapeNut responded, "It is as I've already told you. I think we can expect at least a century of underground fic. But, we'd still have the best writers! And those writers could fill a large underground archive with as many fics as we need to stay comfortable and get our fill of Severus. We'd need to do a quick survey of which authors and fics we want to have and get those invitations out immediately. Maybe some of them could bring copies of their fics with them to the underground archive."

"I'd have to decide which authors and fics to invite?" Fanny Wack believed at that moment that she held the survival of the entire SS/HG fandom in her hands. It was an awesome responsibility."

"Well, not really," Dr. GrapeNut interrupted her reverie. "We could program a computer to get invitations out to accept only the most highly recommended and revered fics and authors in the ship. Of course, it's absolutely vital that we all take our own fics with us. We are the leadership that the fandom needs if it is to survive a century underground. I mean, we need to think of ourselves, er, do what we need to do to safeguard the fandom."

The thought of her own fics surviving underground the destruction of the online fandoms energised Dr. GrapeNut in a way she'd not been energised since she'd got a really good, detailed, nude, photoshopped shot of Severus with her own face on the female in his loving embrace. She became more and more excited just thinking about the possibilities of underground selective fic archiving. The mere thought of ten premier fic writers for each reader inched her ever closer to a climax of sorts. The fandom elite would savour the work of a small but deeply talented group who could devote their prodigious talents to just the chosen few alone. What a paradise of fabulous fic that would be! She began waving her wand and chanting in what sounded suspiciously like Parseltongue. Their work would eventually repopulate the fandom.

"Of course, they'd go at it like bunnies, wouldn't they? I mean, there'd be so much time and not much else to do with all other archives destroyed. They could probably reach the current level of fic in say ten to twenty years! And all of it choice prime fic!"

Fanny Wack had a concern that she needed to share with the others. "I'm a bit worried, though, that this small group of survivors might be so grief-stricken that they are unable to write effectively. What if they are so distraught that they don't want to write anymore? I mean, just think of how many writers…really good writers…left the fandom after HBP came out! If just the thought of Severus doing something evil made them quit writing, what would the destruction of the online communities that have such a mainstay for years now do to them?"

Dr. GrapeNut was unconcerned. "Once they join the underground archive, they will all be survivors. There will be no tragic memories for what was, but rather a fond nostalgia and a desire to recreate the best of what we once had, only better!"

LoveBug was utterly entranced with GrapeNut's vision of a secret, underground, by invitation-only, selective fic archive where only the best and brightest of their age could indulge their fic fantasies forever safe from fear of bad fics. "Dr. GrapeNut, you mentioned something about ten fic writers for each reader. Does that mean we could possibly forgo the need to wait for a fic to be beta'd and approved before reading it? I mean, if only the best writers are present, there's really no reason why the fics could not be posted as soon as they're written. The whole beta/approval system could be abandoned allowing more fics to be posted faster but with no negative effects on fic quality."

"You raise a very good point," Dr. GrapeNut agreed. "Of course, since the writers will be required to do such prodigious writing, it's only fair that we be equally as selective about the readers. After all, they are the ones who will leave reviews. We need to select only the best readers who can stroke the egos of the writers in just the right manner so the whole venture is profitable for everyone involved. We all know how stimulating a good review can be, am I right, ladies?" Dr. GrapeNut waited out the obligatory LOLs that inevitably followed such a pronouncement. Normally, that sort of thing irked the hell out of her, but she was in rare spirits this night and found she didn't mind. She laughed herself. "Well, if the writers are properly stimulated, then we can rest assured that we, the readers, will also be properly stimulated in turn. It's a cycle, not at all unlike scientific cycles and every bit as precise." She had given the matter a great deal of thought and had considered writing a book on it and trying to get it published.

Widgy weighed in suddenly, "I like the way you think, GrapeNut!"

"Yes, yes…a world in which we have scientific-like production of quality fics, written by only the most desirable writers, whose egos are stroked lovingly to encourage the production of more and more fic. Everyone can relax and enjoy good fic. We can all stop worrying and love the wank!"

As this small group discusses all manner of hypothetical possibilities of underground selective fic archiving, the entire fandom is racing toward Doomsday, the end of the fandom as the world knew it. LoveBug became agitated by a particularly troubling thought. "Hey, I was just thinking, maybe we should stockpile some wank of our own, just in case."

"Why would we need to do that?" Dr. GrapeNut asked. She was growing ever more excited and didn't want anything or anyone to interfere in what promised to be the climax of a lifetime.

"Well, I was just thinking, what if the poor fic writers do the same thing and preserve all those horrific fics so that in a hundred years when it all surfaces again, they flood the world with those wretched works?"

"Yes, that would be a potential problem. However, I'm sure that with our superior intellect, we should easily find ways to counter that little annoyance."

"But that's not even the half of it. What if they all save up that wank, too? The good fics would be annihilated once everyone goes public again. We'd be outmanoeuvred and outnumbered. We can't let that happen. No, I think we should stock up some wank of our own, just for that very eventuality." The others considered this, completely missing the irony in it. "The pathetic writers may even try to launch a pre-emptive strike against us so that only their own rubbish survives into the future."

Several voices chime in agreement. No one notices that Widgy has started surreptitiously copying files and stories from the files onto her own hard drive for her own personal use…and plans later.

LoveBug continued to rail to the general agreement of the others present, "Maybe we should even encourage maximum fic writing. I bet even the non-writers might be willing to contribute a few one-shots to help us out. We need to have an enormous stockpile of fics for when the moratorium ends. We need to be in a position to literally flood whatever medium is the norm then with our fics. Otherwise, the enemy might do the same thing and beat us at our own game, flooding the post-Moratorium world with a multitude of bad fic. We cannot, under any circumstances, allow the emergence of a fic gap!"

Dr. GrapeNut, secretly ecstatic about the total annihilation of the fandom, formulated a plan to resurrect herself. She typed out a message to the others, "I have a plan." She stood up and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She raised her hands high over her head, still gazing at her reflection. "My Lord! I am yours!" She cried out, much to the annoyance of her husband in the next room. That cry always meant he wouldn't be getting any that night unless he donned a long black cape and hissed a lot…something about Parseldung or other. He stretched out a yawn and mumbled, "Dream on, sugar toots. Not tonight," and headed to the local bar to drown his sorrows.

And then it happened. One by one, Potter fanfic archives across the web were inundated with the Doomsday Fic. A dozen versions appeared here, a couple hundred more there. Whole sections of multi-fic archives became clogged in the blink of an eye with nary a warning. Sites began disappearing almost immediately. There was nothing to do but watch in stunned silence as it all vanished into nothingness. Ripples of shock spread out across the globe, only to be followed by an eerie silence. Computer screens went black and the rest was silence. In the distance, an old song played…its melody and words somehow fitting.

**Thanks for the memory:  
Of things I can't forget, journeys on a jet,  
The time we spent on Grecian Isles and Paris when we met.  
How happy I was. **

And thanks for the memory:  
Of summers by the sea, dawn just you and me.  
We had a pad in London but we didn't stop for tea;  
How cosy it was.

Now since our break-up I wake up  
Alone on a gray morning-after.  
I long for the sound of your laughter,  
And then I see the laugh's on me.

But, thanks for the memory:  
With every tale a thrill, I've been through the mill.  
I've lived a lot and learned a lot, you loved me not and still;  
I miss you so much.

Thanks for the memory:  
Of different ways they met, our favourite Potter pair  
Locked within a store-room drinking absinthe per a dare -  
How crazy that was.

Thanks for the memory:  
Of letters they destroyed, books that they enjoyed,  
Tonight the way things look, we'll need a book by Sigmund Freud -  
How brainy they were.

Gone are those tales of long ago.  
We always knew they fit just like a glove.  
And how we all cherished Snape/Granger love,  
And wish that we were reading, still.

I know it's a fallacy:  
That grown-ups never cry, baby, that's a lie.  
We had our bed of roses, but forgot that roses die.  
And thank you so much.


End file.
